Odd Man Out
by Layla Reyne
Summary: Stefan and Damon POVs upon returning home to the Boarding House, where Elena and Caroline are waiting for them, in 3X18 – The Murder of One. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Odd Man Out**

**By: Layla Reyne**

Summary/Notes: Missing scenes from 3X18 – The Murder of One. Stefan and Damon return to the boarding house, where Elena and Caroline are waiting for them. Stefan comes to a realization about Elena's feelings toward Damon. I intended this to be the next chapter in Not So Near Misses, but it's a bit of an oddball, POV-wise, for that series; however, it does follow up on a little nugget I dropped in NSNM Chapter 5. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: The characters and other things from The Vampire Diaries are not mine. All due credit to the rightful holders.**

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_Look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel something for him. – Stefan_

"What did Klaus mean, Stefan?" Damon asked, as he slumped into the passenger seat of the car. "Step down or you both die. What was that about?"

Stefan looked over at his bloodied half-conscious brother and debated whether or not to get into this right now. "I'll fill you in later," he answered, erring on the side of caution. "I just need to get you back to the house."

"No, what I need is blood." Damon gingerly reached behind the seats in search of a cooler.

"I don't keep it in the car anymore." Not since the night he decided to play chicken with Klaus and almost drove Elena off the Wickery Bridge. His small (temporary) victory against Klaus did nothing to silence her screams that haunted him every night. And for what? Klaus got the coffins back and now his own life was coming apart at the seams. All because of his futile quest for revenge.

"Earth to Stefan." Damon waved his hand in the space between them, drawing him back to the present. "Just tell me what I missed."

"Finn is dead."

"I caught that before. Who had the honors?"

"Matt." Damon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Scenario Number Two. Elena took him down with the cross-bow, and Matt staked him."

"Go team." Damon's sarcastic reply was undercut by the prideful smirk on his face. It had not escaped Stefan either that the humans among them had taken out another Original. Elena was three for three, if you also counted the times she daggered Elijah and Rebekah (and disregarded their subsequent un-daggering). "It's a shame Klaus didn't go down with him," Damon continued, grimacing and shifting uncomfortably in the seat. Stefan reached over to steady him, but Damon swatted his hand away. "Klaus forced Bonnie to unlink them. I overheard her doing the spell."

"We know. She told us when she called to tell us where you were."

"At least she did that much for me," Damon grumbled.

"Bonnie was scared, Damon. She's still a wreck after what we did to Abby."

"No brother, after what_ I_ did," Damon bit back at him.

Stefan inwardly cringed as the familiar wave of guilt crashed over him. He lost that coin toss. It was supposed to be him that turned Bonnie's mother, but Damon intervened and became the target of everyone's reproach. Damon knowingly damned himself to protect him and give him another shot at redemption. But Stefan knew Damon also did it for Elena – to protect her from a ripper relapse and to give her a shot at what Damon thought she wanted – another chance with him. Damon figured he lost that fight – failed to win her fair and square, as he said – but Elena's reaction to his abduction made Stefan wonder if his brother had figured wrong.

"Damon-"

"Not the point, Stefan," Damon said, cutting him off. "What else aren't you telling me?"

"There were complications – with Sage."

"Elena?" Damon angled toward him with panic-filled eyes, and it reminded Stefan again of Elena's reaction earlier in the day.

"She's fine," he answered, and Damon released the breath he'd been holding. "But Sage is dead."

Damon held his stare a moment longer, letting the words sink in, and then hung his head, his chin resting against his chest. Stefan knew Damon and Sage were on the outs, but he recognized the sting that came with the loss of one's mentor. Lexi and Sage may have had radically different approaches to life as a vampire, but without them, Stefan doubted whether he and Damon would have survived this long.

"How?" Damon's voice was quiet and resigned.

"She got sick within an hour of Finn's death."

"Wait, what?" Damon asked, looking back up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Sage showed up at the house with one of her minions. We were fighting and then suddenly they both went weak, started coughing up blood, and then they died, as if they'd been staked."

"But sans stake, I take it." Stefan nodded, and Damon sunk back into the seat, propping an elbow up on the open passenger window and holding his head in his hand. "So it's the bloodline," he said after a few moments of silence.

"We think so."

"Fuck," Damon muttered, and Stefan couldn't have summed it up better. "Step down or you both die. If you had staked Klaus, it would have killed us too."

"Yes, assuming Klaus is the sire of our bloodline. We need to find out who sired Rose."

"And how am I supposed to do that, Stefan?" Damon snapped. "She's dead."

"That's why we need _someone_ who can talk to the dead."

"Jeremy," Damon concluded, catching on to his plan. "We need to go to Ric's now," he added wearily, leaning his head back against the seat. "Get the stake and buy some time."

"You look like you just walked off the set of a Saw movie," Stefan observed jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"He's looked worse," Damon slurred, fumbling with his shirt cuffs to hide his mangled wrists.

"Doubt it. And besides, she'd kill me."

"Elena," Damon sighed, his head lolling to the side and his eyes slipping shut.

"She's waiting at the house, Damon." Stefan reached over again to steady him, and he knew Damon was on the edge of consciousness because this time he didn't brush him off. "Stay with me."

A few minutes and several traffic violations later Stefan skidded to a stop in front of the boarding house. He hauled Damon out of the passenger seat and hurried to the front door with him stumbling at his side. He was two steps inside the foyer when Elena came barreling out of the parlor with Caroline on her heels. Elena stopped dead in her tracks for a moment, her eyes widening and her breath catching as she took in Damon's bloodied appearance, and then she was in motion again, rushing to Damon's other side. Damon instinctively shifted in her direction, curling toward her and resting his head on her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Damon mumbled anxiously. "Rebekah will kill you."

Elena shot Stefan a questioning look, acknowledging him for the first time. "He's confused. He's lost a lot of blood," he explained. Elena held his gaze for a few seconds before turning her attention back to his brother who was swaying unsteadily between them.

"Damon, you're home," Elena assured him soothingly. "Rebekah's not here."

"Let's get him to the den," Stefan directed, guiding them toward the large leather sofa.

Once Damon was settled, Elena rounded on him, and Stefan was surprised by the barely contained rage in her eyes. "What the hell happened to him?"

"Rebekah's no longer a fan."

"Clearly. I told you we should have gone after him sooner," Elena seethed between clenched teeth.

"Hey," Caroline interjected from behind the couch. "We don't have time for this."

"You're right," Stefan replied, shaking his head and taking a step back. "Caroline, go get some blood bags from the basement. Elena, get some towels."

Elena closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. After a few moments, she nodded and turned to leave, but Damon's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist, holding her in place. "Stay," he whispered, eyes locked with hers, and Stefan saw the last of her anger dissipate and be replaced by tender concern. She crouched next to the couch, and when Damon's grip on her wrist loosened, she carefully wrapped his hand in hers. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Damon."

"I'll get the towels," Stefan said, suddenly feeling like an intruder. He paused at the doorway to look back and immediately regretted it. His chest constricted painfully as he watched Elena brush the matted hair off of Damon's forehead and give it a lingering kiss. She settled on the couch behind him, holding him, with one hand still clutched around his and the other gently threading through his hair.

Stefan turned away and staggered down the hallway to the bathroom. He leaned against the door jam, desperately trying to contain the sob that was working its way up his throat and the tears pooling in his eyes. He knew his brother loved Elena. He'd counted on that when he left with Klaus – that his love would protect her and keep her alive. And he knew that she also cared about Damon, but what he just witnessed was more than that. At some point during his absence or perhaps even after his return, she'd fallen in love with Damon.

He was now the odd man out.

Stefan was startled when a hand came to rest softly on his shoulder. Caroline stood at his side with a knowing, sympathetic look on her face. "Elena's helping him with the blood bags. I can take the towels to them." Stefan nodded mutely. He pulled a few towels from the cabinet and handed them to her. "Damon mentioned something about getting the stake from Ric," she continued. "Why don't you go upstairs and call him. Tell him Damon will be over in a little bit."

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "Can you ask Elena to come up once Damon heads out? We need to talk."

"Are you sure you want to do that tonight?"

"Neither one of us is blind, Caroline." Her bowed head confirmed his suspicions. "I can't pretend things didn't change while I was gone, and I need to know where things stand now. She has to make a decision, one way or the other."

"All right," Caroline said with a nod, before walking back to the den. Stefan closed his eyes and took a deep breath – mimicking Elena's earlier actions – and made his way up the stairs to his room to prepare himself for the inevitable heartache to follow.

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**So, what did you think? Hit review and let me know! I just felt like Stefan's "pick me" speech at the end of this episode had to be precipitated by more than Elena's fairly typical over reaction at a friend in danger. Thanks of reading - LR**


	2. Chapter 2

**Odd Man Out **

**Chapter 2**

**By: Layla Reyne**

**Notes:** Your messages, favorites and alerts on this story, which are so very much appreciated, convinced me to expand what was originally conceived as just a one-shot into a two-shot venture. Now let's dive into Damon's POV when they arrive back at the boarding house. Enjoy and please review!

Special thanks go to the very talented _**ElvishGrrl**_ for the pre-read and advice. Be sure to check out her stories too, especially her current story, Bumps, which is awesome!

**Disclaimer:** The characters and other things from The Vampire Diaries are not mine. All due credit to the rightful holders.

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_This was much different in my head. - Damon_

"Stay with me," his brother urged, as Damon struggled to hang on to his increasingly blurry consciousness. And just when the blackness threatened to swallow him whole, his aching body shifted as the car skidded to a stop, scattering loose gravel across the pavement. An instant later he was wrenched out of the passenger seat and hauled forward, stumbling blindly. When the heavy oak door slammed shut behind him, his eyelids finally startled into action and he saw her, frozen in wide-eyed alarm one second and pressed to his side the next, flooding him with her scent, her heartbeat, her warmth. Damon didn't think, only acted, as he curled his arm around Elena, leaned his body against hers and tucked his head against her shoulder.

But his comfort at her nearness quickly morphed into panic. "What are you doing here?" he groaned. "Rebekah will kill you." Didn't she understand the danger in coming here? Elena was no match for a house full of Originals out for her blood, and he was in no shape to protect her.

Stefan mumbled something, but Damon didn't care what he had to say as long as he got Elena the hell out of here. _Save her_, his mind offered but his voice refused to cooperate. _God, Lucifer, fuck, whoever is listening_, he silently begged, _please for once let Stefan figure out the obvious for himself and get her far away from this house of horrors._

"Damon, you're home," Elena whispered in his ear. "Rebekah's not here." Raggedly drawing in a breath to protest, he smelled leather, bourbon and aged paper in musty bookbindings, and he pried his eyes open again to make sure his senses weren't deceiving him. Relatively satisfied that he was in his own den, he relaxed and allowed Elena to lower him onto the couch, his head lolling back against the armrest as he sunk into the familiar well-worn leather cocoon.

Raised voices brought his attention back to Stefan and Elena arguing above him. She was angry, crowding into his baby brother's space with clenched fists and gritted teeth, but he was too out of it to catch all the words, and things were beginning to to blur again. Barbie interrupting, Stefan barking orders, blood, towels, Elena turning to go. _No,_ he mutely screamed, as panic ensnared him once again. Maybe this was a delusion after all. Another one of Rebekah's fucked up mind games – an imagined homecoming that would fade away any minute now, plunging him back into the Original Sister's torture porn nightmare.

Summoning his last ounce of strength, Damon stretched out his arm and grabbed Elena's wrist, turning her back to him and holding her in place. He needed an anchor in this sea of doubt. He needed his living breathing manifestation of home. He needed her. With their eyes locked, he willed her to understand, begging her on a whisper to "Stay" until his world stopped spinning and he was sure of his reality.

She softened immediately, the fiery Petrova doppelganger giving way to the compassionate Gilbert girl. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Damon," she said, kneeling next to him and taking his hand in hers.

Damon held her gaze a moment longer before reclining back into the cushions and closing his eyes. A few seconds later he felt the delicate touch of her fingers on his forehead, brushing away his matted hair, followed by the press of her warm lips. When Elena lingered there, with her breath on his face and the tips of her fingers lightly stroking his cheek, Damon hummed contentedly, basking in the nearness of her and the comfort of home. She then settled behind him on the couch, one hand still clutched in his and the other weaving through his hair.

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours later, Damon wasn't sure anymore, nor did he really care when he was wrapped in her arms, Caroline re-entered the room and his throat burned in automatic response to the blood bags in her hand. She halted at the sight of them, and his awakening mind began to connect the dots. The world at large, hell, even himself, believed he and Elena had reached a crossroads of sorts recently. She had made a U-turn on the path back to her epic love. He had continued forward on the all-too familiar highway of unrequited love. But what Caroline saw – what he felt – seemed a lot more like lovers on the same road than strangers headed in opposite directions. And damn it if he wasn't going to hold on to this respite from his lonely journey a little while longer. It was so much better than their vicious cycle of tit-for-tat, and it was definitely better than the last ten or so hours of torture and bloodletting. Using Elena's hand to pull her arm more firmly around him, he sank further back into her embrace and she tightened her hold on him in response. Damon smirked in satisfaction as Caroline's eyebrows leapt skyward.

"Caroline, blood bag," Elena demanded from behind him. When Caroline failed to respond, Elena held out her hand and snapped her fingers impatiently. Damon cringed at the sound, magnified tenfold in his ear, and he hoped to God Caroline would come to her senses before Elena had to do it again. Caroline thankfully shook herself out of it, handing a bag to Elena and setting the other on the table beside the couch.

"I'll go get those towels," she said, shooting them another curious look before scurrying from the room.

After deftly popping the cap on the bag with one hand, Elena brought the IV straw to his lips, and he took a long draught of blood, savoring its taste and texture as it coated his mouth and throat. But his pleasure was short lived. With each mouthful of blood his hazy consciousness began to clear and the harsh, bitter truths concerning this girl who was tenderly holding him began to seep back in.

_Because I don't want you to be what other people think you are._

Sip.

_Because I thought for one second I wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore._

Sip.

_Well, maybe that's the problem. _

Sip.

_I thought I could win her from you fair and square. She didn't want me._

And that was the very crux of the matter, even if her arms around him suggested otherwise.

His free hand covered her much smaller one as they squeezed the blood bag dry. With speed and strength infusing his limbs again, he beat her reach for the second one and moved to stand, but this time she held him in place, her other hand still clutched around his.

"Five minutes, Damon," she pleaded.

With their eyes locked again, Damon noticed something in them that had been painfully absent for a while now. Add to that the past however many minutes he'd spent wrapped in her embrace as she brought him back to life, and he was desperately battling back the spark of hope that had ignited somewhere in the immediate vicinity of his heart. Hope was not a luxury he could afford right now.

"Time out is over, Elena," he replied, jerking his hand free and heading for the stairs.

"A truce then," she called from behind him. "We have to, Damon, if we're going to make it out of this alive."

Damon paused for a moment, considering her proposal. She was right, of course. He would probably need her to get Jeremy's cooperation, they were both concerned for Alaric and it would take all of them to defeat Klaus. They had a much better chance of accomplishing any of the foregoing without a fucking ten-foot wall of animosity between them. And after a day like today, a year like this past year, his mind and body were just so goddamn tired.

"Fine," he conceded, nodding his head without turning around. He would swallow his pride, his anger, his hurt, and his unrequited love, to save them – to save Elena – because, honestly, he didn't know how to do anything else at this point. No matter what had transpired between them, he would still always choose her. Reality for him, no matter which version, only existed as long as Elena was in it, and that was wretched truth of the matter.

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_**So, what did you think? Does this story help you, like me, work out some of your back-half Season 3 Delena frustration? Hit review and let me know.**_


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